


Love In Action

by Distrait



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, s08e04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-26 09:56:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19003441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Distrait/pseuds/Distrait
Summary: If Jon Snow was genuinely in love with Daenerys and everyone else started making reasonable decisions.





	1. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time posting anything on this site, and the first time writing anything in a very long time. Hopefully, I didn't muck it up too terribly. It's clear that I'm rusty, but I just had to get this written down. It really bothered me that even though Jon claimed to love Daenerys, none of his actions ever actually showed that in season 8.

 

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

 

**Jon**

 

“I’ve never begged for anything, but I’m begging you. Don’t do this! Please.”

Jon could see the desperation in Daenerys’s eyes as she begged him not to tell his sisters the truth about his parentage. He knew she wasn’t imagining things when it came to Sansa’s feelings.

“I see the way Sansa looks at you,” he admitted regrettably. “I had hoped in time that you two would grow closer.”

“She fears me,” Daenerys whispered.

“Aye,” he agreed. “I think her past has taught her to only trust herself.”

Daenerys let out a sob suppressed in a laugh, “I know the feeling.”

He lifted his hands up from her hips and cupped her cheeks, looking into her eyes. Behind the tears, he could see her own fear. His heart clenched as he chose a side.

“I won’t tell them,” he said with a sigh and she shuddered in relief. “Not yet.”

She leaned away from him with a frown, “Yet?”

He kissed her on the forehead in regret “We will go south and get your Throne back. When there is nothing more that Sansa can do to harm you, I will tell them.”

She did not look assured and began to take a step back, but he pulled her into a tight hug, “I love you. I’ll do anything I can to protect you.”

She pushed him away, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Is it because I’m your Aunt?” she asked tearfully, “I can feel you judging me as if I knew it all along!”

“I don’t care about that,” Jon said dismissively. “There is no hidden truths in this world that could change how I feel for you.”

“But you… I don’t understand,” she confessed, her eyebrows coming down as she frowned.

Jon ran a hand down his face in frustration, “I was angry with you Daenerys!”

“What? What did I do?” she demanded angrily, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jon looked down at her in exasperation, she really had no idea. He sighed and sat down on the bed, gesturing for her to join him. She begrudgingly accepted the invite and sat down rigidly, with her back straight and her legs together at a slight angle; her hands clasped in her lap.

“When Sam told me the truth about my mother,” he paused before taking in a labored breath, “and about my father, I was floored. I could barely concentrate. I tried to push everything to the back. I tried to focus on the battle plans, and the preparation, but nothing I tried mattered. I felt stupid. I felt ridiculous. The world was coming to an end and all I could think about was how everything I thought about myself was a lie.” Daenerys reached over and grabbed his hand, bringing it to her lap where she joined it with her other. She smothered his hand within her own and squeezed. He sighed and returned the pressure in gratitude.

“And then I was angry. I was angry that my father, Lord Stark never told me the truth. I was angry that Lady Stark had hated me for a reason that wasn’t even real. I was angry at Bran for telling Sam at all, and I was angry at Sam who thought it was a great idea to tell me when I needed to be focused on something far more important.”

“And then I was scared. I knew that I needed to tell you before anything else could happen. It didn’t change what I felt for you, but I began to wonder if it was going to change how you thought of me. I began to avoid you because I didn’t want to distract you the same as it had distracted me. I failed at doing even that. It was selfish of me to tell you right when the undead were at our doors.”

“Why did you?” she asked tentatively, drawing circles with her thumb over his palm. Her earlier anger had evaporated now that Jon was no longer shunning her. She tried to draw his gaze to hers but he refused to meet her eye.

“When the Red Priestess brought me back, I arose with the knowledge that I was brought back for a reason. To prepare against the Night King’s army. I also came back with the knowledge that I was not going to survive it.” Daenerys’s mouth opened in surprise, looking ready to reprimand his thinking. Before she could get a word out, he quickly continued. “I didn’t think of it as a thought or a belief. In my mind, it was a fact. I was brought back for a reason, and once that reason was dealt with, I was going to go back to where I belonged.”

“The night of the battle, I decided I was going to tell you the truth. I was still sure I was going to be dead before the night was over. I felt that you needed to know that I went into that battle knowing the truth, and loving you still.”

Daenerys looked away in thought while tears built in her eyes. She did not remember the conversation in the crypts going down that way at all. She let out a gasp as she finally realized why he had been distant with her ever since the battle.

“Your first reaction after I told you the truth was not how this news had affected me, nor how it was going to affect us,” Jon concluded tonelessly.

“It was only about what it had meant for my claim,” Daenerys confirmed with a sob, her posture hunching over as if she had been wounded. Jon extracted his hand from hers,

“I had known this truth for days Daenerys. My thoughts were rarely about anything else. Not once did I think about a crown, the throne, or the possibility that my claim was better than yours,” he explained. “We got interrupted with the call to battle, but I left that conversation wondering if you had loved me at all.”

“I didn’t mean it.” she moaned with a hiccup, crossing her arms over her stomach. Jon got up and knelt before her, taking her hands in his and kissing her fingers. She clung to his hands, refusing to let him go. Her violet eyes shined with tears as they plead for his forgiveness.

“I realize now that your fear wasn’t only about the Throne, but of yourself. You knew right away that my birth didn’t only take away the chance of you being a queen, but also put you in danger.” Daenerys nodded, it was true. When he had told her, she had only felt fear. “I’m not very good at thinking about that stuff,” Jon admitted bashfully. “It seems that no matter how many times I’m proven wrong, I always seem to think that others will do what’s right.”

Daenerys let out a weary laugh, “You should probably try to fix that now that you have lived past your own death sentence.”

Jon gave her a grin before sobering, “I’m sorry if my distance made you think that my feelings had changed.”

Daenerys initiated the hug this time, her hands gripping his back tightly in relief. “I love you, Jon. Or Aegon. Lord Snow. Lord Targaryen. No matter what you want to call yourself.”

“Jon Snow,” he said seriously before pulling away from her embrace. “If that ever changes. If I ever decide to tell anyone the truth. I will come to you first.” he promised, leaning forward and giving her a kiss that was meant to be quick, but rapidly grew heated. She was desperate for the kiss to continue, her hands reaching up and grasping at his arms. There was nothing left inside of him that didn’t want it to happen. Her hands left his arms and began to reach under his tunic. He wanted nothing more than to fall into her arms and not think about anything else but her for the rest of the night. Still, he pulled away.

She went to go stand at his second apparent rejection in order to distance herself, but he kept her sitting by placing his hands on her knees and softly teasing the area with his fingers.

“I refuse to put you in danger or make you feel that I’ve put you in danger. You have to know that.”

She nodded in acceptance and wiped the remaining tears from her face. “You can’t promise me that those who already know will remain quiet.”

“You’re right. I can’t,” he said, even though he wanted to argue that neither Sam nor Bran would ever betray him.

“Varys would tell me how foolish it would be to pretend that no one else will ever know,” she grumbled irritably. He couldn’t help but smile fondly at the pout that has formed on her lips.

“Do you trust anyone enough to tell them?” Jon asked tentatively.

“My dragons?” Daenerys offered jokingly. Her thoughts turned to her friend Missandei, but telling her wouldn’t help the situation. She shook her head with a sigh. “I fear I have hurt Tyrion’s pride too much lately with my criticism.”

“And Varys?” Jon asked skeptically, still not trusting the man who had been the advisor of multiple terrible kings.

She scoffed at the suggestion, “That man is only with me because there are no other choices.”

“It seems you need better advisors.”

She threw him a dirty look, yet he could tell that there was no heat behind it. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward and kissing her lips again. She smiled as he pulled away, but it fell away from her face a moment later.

“The only absolute solution to this problem, are things that I could never do,” she said truthfully. “Things that Sansa would fear. Fear that would cause her to make moves against me.” Jon looked at her pointedly, needing more information. “Varys told me that the moment the usurper died, the Lannister’s scoured the realm looking for rumors of his bastards, and killed every single one of them. All dark-haired blue-eyed babes in King’s Landing were put to death. Just in case.”

“She’d think she was protecting me by going after you.” Jon realized, once again feeling stupid for not seeing what now seemed obvious.

“In her shoes, I’d think the same,” Daenerys admitted regretfully. “We are alike in many ways, and we both have family that we’d do anything to protect. The only difference is I can see her, but she seems blind to me.”

They both remained silent, trying to think of a solution. Finally, Daenerys broke the silence, “Perhaps we can rule together.”

This time she refused to meet his eye and he could see that it had hurt her to even suggest it. He believed he knew why. “They wouldn’t see it like that,” he said, informing her of something she clearly already knew. “They would see me as the king and you, my queen.”

She let out a defeated laugh, “Yes.”

“That sounds terrible.”

She gave him an offended look, and he laughed. “I was truthful when I told you I didn’t want to be king. In truth, it’s more than that. I would hate to be king.” He smiled ruefully, “Can you imagine it? I’d be a messenger king. The in-between of the Queen with the actual power and the people who refused to accept it.”

She looked at him as if she was seeing him for the first time. His confusion grew as a true smile appeared on her face, “It could work.”

Jon’s eyes widened and he could feel the panic growing at the thought. “What? No, I told you, I don’t want…”

“Let them think what they want.” Daenerys waved her hand dismissively. “They’ll even think that they succeeded. They’ll think they neutered me and my dragons. That I answer to you.”

“I don’t want you to be pushed behind me,” he said, feeling disgusted at the thought. She gave him a warm smile and touched his face tenderly.

“If it was anyone else, it would work,” she said softly. “But you’re a stubborn man. They’ll keep coming to you, and you’ll keep coming to me. They’ll realize it soon enough. It might take a year, it might take five, but once they know coming to me will get them heard quicker, they’ll stop bothering you.”

He groaned at the very idea of being king for five years, “Yeah? You promise?”

She gave him a sad smile, “No matter what happens, you will still be King, and that will always hold power and expectation in this realm. I wouldn’t want you to be miserable.”

“I’m not sure how I could be miserable with you there with me,” he responded truthfully. She gave him that smile again, and Jon felt his desire for her surge through him. He knew that there was no stopping himself this time.

He picked her up and laid her on the bed, hovering over her. He bent down to kiss the skin on her neck, and moaned at the taste, “I’m not sure how I ever resisted you.”

She let out a gleeful giggle as her hands reached down to rub at him, and she smirked at his groan, “You’re a stubborn man, Jon Snow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway, I wrote this. Not sure if I'll continue. I have more ideas, but I'll change it to a one-shot if there is no interest for them. There are a lot of stories out there with similar ideas and far better writers, but another goal of mine would be to fix how stupid everyone was when it came to taking King's Landing. I would also love to continue this into their actual reign. I may end up posting additional one-shots in the same universe just for my own peace of mind.
> 
> I have no beta. I went through it multiple times, but I have a habit of overlooking simple mistakes.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Decided to leave this as is as just two parts. Unfortunately, when trying to write future chapters, I just have more and more problems with the events that lea them up to this. Just pretend that Daenerys and Jon were above average in intelligence and didn't go out of their way to do whatever they possibly could to lose the war and actually made decent decisions. Because of these decent decisions, Daenerys was never put in a situation where she loses everything that she loves, and therefore remains sane.

* * *

 

**Chapter Two**

* * *

 

**Daenerys**

 

She sat in the only chair within her chambers as her friend stood behind her, combing out her hair in long elegant strokes. This ritual had long become the comforting start to her day.

It was the morning after her reunion with Jon, and the tentative plans they had formed together had been on her mind since the moment she fled his rooms in the middle of the night. She hadn’t thought it was a good idea to stay until morning, regardless of how many lords in the North had already reasoned out the truth of their relationship. Unfortunately, she had trouble getting to sleep after the return to her own bed; her mind too absorbed with the thoughts of their future. When she wasn’t worried about their possible future together, she was fantasizing about their hours together in each other’s arms.

Even when he had hovered over her with lust in his eyes, she had been waiting for the moment that he would pull away. This fear of hers never came to pass and their reunion had been everything she had hoped for. He hadn’t shown a hint of reluctance as he removed her clothing and worshipped her body with his tongue. 

In truth, his passion had seemed even greater than she had remembered from their trip to White Harbor. There had always been something that kept him at a distance then. She would catch him retreating into his thoughts, and all of her probing questions had been met with resistance. At the time, it had created doubt in their relationship for her, but now, she’s sure that it had everything to do with his constant fear of the war that was coming to the North.

After everything that followed, he had a right to be terrified. If it wasn’t for Arya Stark and the Night King’s strange fixation on Bran Stark, then the fight would have been lost. Her dragons had only been of minimal help when their enemy had a dragon of his own. She had spent most of the battle fighting the winter storm as it both tried to take Drogon out of the fight and managed to obscure the field from her entirely. They hadn’t even had the time to form a proper battle strategy and because of that, her troops had been left at only a fraction of what they had been.

Their hard-won victory seemed to have been exactly what Jon Snow had needed. He was usually quiet while in bed with her, but the night before he had spent their time together whispering about his love for her. He had been the only thing on her mind, and it was clear that she had been the only thing on his.

“It’s good to see you smiling again, Your Grace,” Missandei remarked as she finished with the comb and began the elaborate process of braiding it.

“Am I?” she asked stoically. She felt her lips form a smile regardless.

“I’ve been worried about you,” Missandei admitted softly. “You’ve seemed… distressed since arriving here, and now that Ser Jorah is….” she trailed off, thinking she said too much.

Daenerys reached back for Missandei’s hand and squeezed briefly before letting. “I’m still grieving for him,” she confessed. “It comforts me to know that he wouldn’t have regretted any of it. Coming here to his old home. Fighting for the North. Even dying while being my shield.”

“He wouldn’t have changed a thing,” Missandei confirmed adamantly.

“It makes me feel terrible. The idea that he was happy to die for me.”

“He’d choose you every time.” 

Daenerys clenched her jaw as she fought against her sadness and guilt.

“You and Lord Snow have reconciled?” Missandei asked, hoping to bring Daenerys smile back.

Daenerys squinted over her shoulder at Missandei, watching a pleased smirk appear on her friend’s face. “What makes you say that?” Daenerys asked playfully.

“The smile I saw earlier,” Missandei teased. “That’s the same smile I saw during our travels to The North. And don’t think I didn’t know the reason for it then.”

Daenerys feigned an outraged gasp, but truthfully she was pleased that her friend still felt comfortable playing like this with her. Everyone had been stressed in the days leading up to the attack. Even her well-mannered friend had been so deeply worried about Grey Worm that she had remained quiet during their time together.

It seems that the victory over the dead gave her back more than just Jon.

* * *

Daenerys strode into the room and nodded her head as murmurs of “Your Grace” swept throughout the small area. 

“Thank you all for coming,” she greeted as she found herself standing next to Jon. They shared a small smile. “We fought the dead together. A terrible evil that wouldn’t have rested until it had wiped us all out. Now it’s time we join together once more to take the Seven Kingdoms back from Cersei.” She scanned the room and could tell at a glance that no one from The North was all too excited at the prospect.

“The Night King was on us quicker than we had predicted when he broke through the wall,” Tyrion said. “Because of that, half of the Queen’s forces were still marching through the Riverlands when we were forced to defend ourselves. We have only a handful of survivors still in Winterfell.”

Jon nodded, “I’m afraid The North doesn’t have much to offer you, Your Grace. Some of our best managed to survive long enough in Winterfell to see through the night, but most of our numbers are gone,” he explained. “We handed out all the Dragon Glass we had forged to men who were able fighters. Young boys with no experience and men wounded from previous wars were sent south to meet up with your army when the news broke of the impending battle. They were meant to join the south if we lost.”

“Yet I can still count on the North’s support?” she asked pointedly. 

Jon bowed his head, “Aye, Your Grace. We are men of our word. Whatever men we have are yours.”

“And what of the Vale?” she asked Lord Royce.

“We suffered heavy losses, but I estimate we still have about forty percent of our men. We got cut off during the retreat into Winterfell and instead we were forced to retreat around the back. The dead hadn’t cared to follow,” Royce explained. He rubbed his thigh as if thinking of the battle worsened the pain of a wound there.

“What of reinforcements?” Daenerys prompted. “Was the full force of The Vale in Winterfell?” 

Lord Royce grimaced and glanced to his left towards Lady Stark. Daenerys clenched her fists in order to stop the words of anger on the tip of her tongue. Lady Stark gave Royce a nod before meeting Daenerys’s angry gaze. Lady Stark did not flinch. 

“No your grace,” Lord Royce admitted. “I could perhaps muster up a thousand more light infantry. The Vale was training reinforcements who had yet to make the trip north.”

“Varys,” Daenerys prompted. “Do I still have the support of Dorne?”

He shook his head, “After the death of Prince Oberyn’s daughters, a civil war broke out for control. Whoever takes Dorne will no doubt desire vengeance against Cersei. For appearance sake if nothing else. However, this may take some time.”

“How reliable is your information?”

“My sources have not waned in Dorne. They will send a raven the moment Dorne stabilizes.”

Tyrion took a drink out of his cup, “The same situation can be found in The Reach and The Stormlands. The Lords in The Reach are all struggling for control, and The Stormlands are looking to stand behind someone with Baratheon blood.”

“What about Gendry? The Queen made him legitimate.” Arya spoke up for the first time.

“We will have no issue installing Gendry as Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, but only after the Queen takes the Iron Throne. Until then, Cersei’s word is law, and Cersei will say that Gendry is a bastard of unknown origin.”

“Remind me again why I don’t just take it?” Daenerys asked with controlled anger. “A year ago I had the armies and the allies to play at gathering support behind me. However, there is no more support to gather. I have the North, the Vale, and the Iron Islands, all kingdoms ravaged by war. The Reach, The Stormlands and Dorne are now in disarray, and The Riverlands is controlled by the Lannister’s.

“Take King’s Landing with your dragons, you mean?” Sansa asked. Gritting her teeth, Daenerys tried to hide her annoyance behind a smile. She could see the rest of the room shifting uncomfortably. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Jon giving his sister an undisguised look of annoyance. This pleased her enough to respond calmly.

“I have no desire to burn down the city, Lady Stark,” Daenerys responded in a placating tone. “The Red Keep is protected by the ocean, the city’s walls, and the long stretch of innocent lives, but it is not protected through the air. I refuse to burn down the city but don’t think I’m above burning down The Red Keep, and The Throne along with it.”

“You’d destroy the very Throne you’re here to claim?” Varys asked in disbelief. 

Not prepared to backtrack her previous statement, she paused to think about it instead. She had said it out of anger, but the idea seemed like a good one. “I came here to break the wheel, Lord Varys. Not take the helm. The Throne used to be a symbol of power,” Daenerys explained. “Now, It’s become an object that gives power. Cersei has no right to the Seven Kingdoms. Still, she sits on it, and people call her Queen. My ancestor’s won the Seven Kingdoms through conquest, Baratheon did the same through rebellion. The Lannister’s? The Lannister’s have it because the Lord’s are just far too concerned with who’s currently sitting on it. If I destroy The Red Keep, and The Iron Throne along with it, well, who would they call Queen then?”

“And then what?” Arya asked, looking at Daenerys with clear interest.

“Cersei can sit inside her dying city with the army she bought, and I’ll use the men who are loyal to me to repair and bring the peace back to The Seven Kingdoms. Will she still call herself Queen when she’s hiding in her city while someone else fixes the problems of the realm?” she asked rhetorically.

She did not flinch as she met the eyes of everyone in the room. The uncomfortable stances that surrounded her after Lady Stark’s question were long gone, and in place were the postures of men with purpose. As she turned to Lady Stark, she was pleased to see her focus drop to the table as opposed to meeting gaze. She felt the heat from Jon's attention to her side but refused to meet it. She knew that her reaction of a woman in love would completely ruin the Queenly speech that she had just given.

Varys was the first to break the silence. “Getting to the Red Keep won’t be as easy as before,” he informed her, looking disappointed, yet pleased with himself. “My birdies have told me that Cersei has been fortifying the walls and buildings with large ballistae. From their descriptions, they appear to be even larger than the one that took Drogon down.”

“If you keep Drogon positioned behind the tower, then there will only be a few that could be a danger to you,” Tyrion said while pulling out a piece of parchment and unraveling it. “Varys spy sent a map with the positions of them,” Tyrion explained. “Though, we are blind to any of the potential defenses inside of the Keep.”

They crowded closer to the map. It was of a small scale, due to the need of being able to hide it. The drawing was crude, but it was clear that Cersei had been busy. Along the whole perimeter were marks indicating the ballistae, spread out only far enough for the person wielding the weapon to spin it around freely. More were spread out throughout the city. Tall buildings had ballistae built on their roof, and open places had ballistae built into the ground. Taking the city would prove to be extremely dangerous for her dragons, and it would require the quick disarming of these siege weapons. 

“She built them all over,” Jon remarked. “In order to disable them, you’d have to level the city. It’s almost like she’s daring you to try.” He pointed to just outside of the Red Keep. “If you stay low to the ground and let their own walls and buildings protect you, these are the only weapons that could target Drogon. A surprise and a distraction should be enough for you to take them out.”

Daenerys nodded in thought, “But perhaps it would be better if I was the distraction.”

“Your Grace?” Tyrion asked worriedly.

“It’s not easy to distract people from a dragon,” Daenerys replied with a smirk. “Except perhaps with another dragon. Jon Snow can take Rhaegal to take out the weapons while I use Drogon to distract them. Then we can both lay siege to the Keep.” 

“Your Grace,” Jon began tentatively. “It would be better for everyone if you weren’t the one in the most danger.” He gave her a pointed look. His speech had been diplomatic, but his eyes were pleading with her to not put herself in danger.

“I’m the better flyer,” she decided. “It’s safer for everyone if they target Drogon.”

“Drogon’s also the bigger distraction,” Arya mumbled under her breath. Daenerys sent her an amused smile.

Tyrion sighed, “I would attempt to spend the rest of the day arguing you out of this decision, Your Grace, but I’m afraid it would be pointless.” She confirmed his assessment with a nod.

“In order to wrestle control of the Kingdoms without taking King’s Landing, we need to isolate Cersei and keep her power contained,” Varys prompted.

“Our best bet would be a limited siege.” Lord Royce advised. At everyone’s questioning look, he continued. “Control the food and information entering and leaving. We would need to set a perimeter outside of the gates, and a blockade along the coast with enough men to repel any attack from the Golden Company and any outside forces.”

“Keeping them fed would go a long way to making sure we didn’t have half a million desperate people charging our perimeter,” Daenerys reasoned thoughtfully.

“Cersei might decide to hide for the rest of her days, but I don’t think the people nor the Golden Company will do the same. You may even take the city by surrender before you can win over the hearts of the Seven Kingdoms,” Tyrion acknowledged.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” Lady Stark said dismissively. “Cersei will spread her lies, and people will believe what she wants them to believe. Don’t think she isn’t above starving her own people just so they think that you’re the cause of their hunger.” Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides. It was good to see that Daenerys and she, had, at the very least, a common enemy.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky, and Cersei will burn with the Throne,” Arya said as she put a comforting hand on her sister’s arm.

“We could burn the whole city down, and my sister would find a way to be the only survivor,” Tyrion said disgustingly. The room fell into a silence, thoughts overwhelmed by the upcoming war.

“I think that about covers it. Does anyone see a better option?” Daenerys questioned diplomatically. 

“One more thing, your grace.” Tyrion piped up. “The seas aren’t safe until we locate and destroy Euron’s fleet. He’s already cost us an ally along with having destroyed a large fraction of our fleet. It will be prudent to take him out of the game before we make our way to King’s Landing.”

“And he’d be a problem for any blockade we tried to use in Blackwater Bay,” Jon added.

Daenerys nodded in agreement. It was clear what the next course would have to be. “I believe it’s time we find out whether or not Lady Yara has reclaimed her home.”


End file.
